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Hawthorne shifts his arms to defend his body, curling up in a defensive posture with his chin down. The kick sits at that perfect angle to be caught in the cushion provided by Hawthorne's arms. But it never comes, Hawthorne instead watches through the corner of his eye as the rotation continues and the foot raises higher; until it fires down at a diagonal and the toe of Question's shoe drives into the crown of his head. Hawthorne's chin is driven into his chest like a railroad spike and a shooting pain fires straight down his skull into the brain. Like an electric jolt going through his body Hawthorne's legs go stiff as he takes maybe two steps before collapsing to the ground, belly to tile he lies there for a moment.
Question sighs, pulling his tie tight around his neck once more, he kneels and speaks.
"Sometimes I like to be a little flashy."
Hawthorne replies with a mumble, his voice muffled by tile and whatever blood is still oozing into his mouth. Question grasps his shoulder and the center of his back gently as he rolls him.
"Say agai-" His words evaporating into the air as his hands go up once more.
The barrel of Hawthorne's revolver glints dimly into the afternoon light, held tight against his body, a devilish grin spreads over the old man's face as he repeated himself.
"I said 'Bang'." He chuckles, the sound crackling and raspy.
"You'd shoot me, Sergeant?"
"What do you think?"
"I think you're a good cop. Too good to be doing this."
"Q.." Huntress says, but a single hand held out to her silences the protest.
The two men sit in silence for a few moments. Huntress gives a few concerned glances but keeps her crossbow trained on Mandragora. The white whale himself watching on with genuine interest on his face, why shouldn't he be invested after all, his life was on the line.
Hawthorne's thumb slowly reaches up and pulls the hammer, disengaging it as he slowly returns it to a resting position, his face returns to his baseline scowl and the gun barrel clunks against the floor as he lets it go and slowly lowers his head to the floor.
"I don't shoot a man without looking him in the eyes first."
"Lucky for me." Question replies with the smallest tinge of relief. "This means you'll be taking him in?"
"Yeah, soon as I can feel my legs again."
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"From there it was as simple as walking him to the car and putting him in the backseat, my suspension is shot to hell now but he's sitting in lock up."
"No fuss?"
"My guess is he was just happy he got to leave with the same amount of holes he came with."
You frown and look at Hawthorne as he gestures at you.
"Go ahead and get started."
"Sir?"
"I know you're dying to tell me off for even thinking about killing a suspect as important as him. I deserve it, I haven't exactly let you slide with much so it's only fair."
